Shadows of Deceit

23: Get Out of My Game

Elara sat in the corner of a bustling café, her fingers wrapped tightly around her coffee cup. She sipped aggressively, the hot liquid fueling her satisfaction. Each bold taste reminded her of the thrill she felt in successfully manipulating the political currents of the court. It was almost comical to her; she imagined herself as a mini Indiana Jones, weaving through the treacherous landscape of noble intrigue. Perhaps she was related to him—after all, they both thrived on adventure and deception. Just as she reveled in her thoughts, the door swung open, and in strode Evander and Celeste, their presence as imposing as a storm rolling in over a calm sea. They made a beeline for her table, their expressions a mix of indignation and disbelief. "Elara!" Evander's voice rang out, dripping with condescension. "Can you kindly explain how you've managed to be one of the top three bridal options? There's no possible way a lowerclassman could make it onto that list!" Elara raised an eyebrow, her expression unfazed. With a casual grace, she put her foot on the edge of the chair on the opposite side of her, and pushed it forward with a smirk. The chair slid across the floor, nearly bumping into Celeste's feet. "Just a lowerclassman? Is that what all of you pathetic low-lives think I am?" she retorted, her tone sharp and unwavering. Evander's eyes narrowed as he leaned closer, trying to intimidate her. "You're playing a dangerous game, Elara. Your rise is a fluke, and we both know it." Elara leaned back, her posture relaxed, contrasting with the tension crackling in the air. "I have a title, and it's Lady Elara," she replied, enunciating each word with deliberate clarity. "Me and Vesper are Ladies, recognized by the court. And I got on that list for being worthy. It's not like I asked to be there." Celeste stepped forward, her lips curling into a mocking smile. "Worthy? Hardly. You're merely a pawn in Korran's game, and we both know he's using you to placate the masses. What happens when he realizes you're nothing but a distraction?" Elara's laughter rang out, light and defiant. "Distraction? I'm much more than that. I am the storm, and you're merely the wind trying to push me off course." The words hung in the air like a challenge. She leaned forward, fixing them with a steely gaze. "Now, respectfully scramble," she added, her voice low but commanding. "I don't have time for your petty jealousy or your futile attempts to undermine me. If you want to play this game, you'd better come prepared."                                                                          As Evander and Celeste exchanged incredulous glances, Elara couldn't help but feel a surge of triumph. She had turned their confrontation into an opportunity to assert her power, to remind them that she was not just a lowerclassman but a force to be reckoned with. Evander opened his mouth to retort, but Elara had already turned her attention back to her coffee, a satisfied smile playing on her lips. She had emerged victorious in this verbal spar, and she knew this was just the beginning. The game was far from over, and she intended to win.